


use your magic hands Mr masseuse

by ghettoassenglishman



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cute, Fluffy, I found this and I was like ooooooh, M/M, Massages, based on a prompt I was give, domestic shits, little drabble, they cuddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:42:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2714294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian wants a massage and because Mickey has become so whipped- and he knows it- he complies</p>
            </blockquote>





	use your magic hands Mr masseuse

**Author's Note:**

> based on prompt-" Mickey gives Ian a massage because his exercise thingys aren't working, and when Mickey does Ian falls to sleep or somethin And then Mickey brings him to bed??? something like that thnx "

“Miccccccck.” Ian called from his end of the couch, his back against the arm as his legs were laid along Mickey's lap. Mickey ignored him purposely as Ian hadn't stopped pestering all night while they tried to watch some bullshit, that Ian wanted to watch. He fucking wanted to watch it, and _he_ was the one blabbing.

 

“Mickey.” Ian prodded, kicking his heels into Mickey's lap, knowing he would get a reaction from the other boy.

 

Mickey groaned as his head fell back against the couch, “I thought you wanted to watch this shit?” he pointed to the background noise of the Tv, pretending not to feel the ache in his pants as Ian happened to have kicked his nuts, that fucker.

 

“Seen it. I wanted to ask you somethin'?”

 

Mickey eyebrows rose to his head, he wasn't even watching the show but he could always pretend he was. “Oh, well its alright if you've seen it.”

 

Ian tilted his head, scoffing at the slight accusation. “Bitch please, you've been daydreaming for the past hour.” He jumped as Mickey slapped his hand against his leg, plunging him into laughter.

 

“What the fuck did you want to ask me? Make it quick or I'll sneeze on ya face.” Mickey grinned, lurching himself closer to Ian without noticing. Ian yawned, his arms stretching over his head, his med's always made him tired after taking them.

 

“Gross.” He scowled turning his nose up to Mickey, turning his arm to flex his shoulder he spoke again, “Can you massage my back- I know what you're going to say. “That's fucking gay”, but seriously my dick was in your ass less then an hour ago- nothing is more gay than that.” He had been trying to do the exercise stretches he had come to learn, but that were pointless when you ran every morning.

 

Mickey tutted his lips, moaning in annoyance as Ian loved all the romantic bullshit. Okay.. maybe Mickey tolerated it, and liked it a slight bit- but just after three rounds he could sleep for days. “A massage? That _is_ fucking gay.”

 

“So are you.” Ian darted back, sipping at his water that was laid by the bottom of the couch. He laughed around the rim of the glass, his eyes closed onto Mickey who was fumbling with his hands and the hem of the Ian's sweatpants.

 

Mickey shifted his legs off his lap, moving slower and slower. “Fucking hell I _never_ knew that.” he laughed sarcastically, not answering Ian's question but walked over to the redhead anyway. “You gonna move or what?”

 

Ian shifted onto his front, face lying sideways on the cushion, bare back facing the ceiling. His legs were giant and hanging off the edge of the chair, he was growing every day it was fucking intimidating, but Mickey always liked to climb him like a tree.

Mickey placed himself at the bottom of Ian's back, legs on either side of the taller boys sides. Ian jolted at the touch, awaiting Mickey's strong hands to get to work, he was already feeling tired. Mickey could feel Ian smiling into the chair, he could _sense_ it to be infact.

 

“Don't say a fucking word.” He paused before placing his hands against Ian's skin, even though the chance Ian would was most likely. Tomorrow the whole town would be knowing of their massaging tricks.

 

“Sure thing, use your magic hands Mr masseuse - _Ugh, fuck thats- bloody nora-_

 

Mickey pressed his hands against the skin, working his way through the knots and clangs under Ian's back. He worked his way down his spine, feeling the cracks under his fingers. Ian hummed quietly, his breathing balancing out each time Mickey worked his hands into his shoulders. The noises he was making was not as craving as the bedroom, but hearing Ian so vulnerable and under him, felt weird- but damn it looked good.

 

Five minutes later, Mickey's hands were aching, his fingers tingling at the blood rushing through them. Next minute he glanced down and he saw that Ian's eyes were slit shut, his mouth a little a gape. The whistle was blowing through his teeth as he breathed deeply within his sleep, Mickey smiled to himself not admitting outloud that it was the cutest fucking thing he had seen.

 

Slowly and gently he made his way off Ian's back, making sure his legs didn't reflex and kick the fucker awake. Now, he had to decide what to do with him. He had three options, grab a blanket and cover him, but then again Ian would moan _more_ about his back. Or there was the good ol' climb in there with him and just fall asleep too, but he wasn't risking a bad back and he defiantly not facing falling off the couch in the morning. So, he went with option three- operation remove Gallagher from the chair without waking him up.

 

Ian had just came back from his recent down, he hadn't had ate for a week and half so weight was quickly taken off him. It felt horrible to feel how light he was now, but atleast Mickey could carry him even with his fuck-ass long limbs. Gripping underneath the taller boys legs and arms he carried him- obviously not fucking bridal-style _pfft-_ and walked over to hi-no their bedroom.

 

After laying him down in bed and going back to turn the Tv off, Mickey finally dipped under the sheets pulling the Redhead closer with instinct.

 

“And you said massaging was gay.” Ian, barely audible, whispered into Mickey's chest,his head laying just by his heart. Mickey knew the only way Ian could stay calm, and remove himself from nightmares was to listen to his heartbeat, so he could let that one slip.

 

“Shut up, you dork.” Mickey kissed the top of his head, hands absently moving up and down against Ian's bare arm. The cover was up to their waists even though the room was freezing and they could be ice cubes in the morning.

 

“Thanks Mick,” Ian kissed onto Mickey's chest, over his heart. Mickey knew what that meant, he wasn't saying thankyou for a stupid massage or taking him to bed, he was saying thankyou for being _there,_ and just everything.

 

“Anytime.”

 


End file.
